


Ice cream

by SterlingBeryl



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, First Hamliza Fic, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I know this has been overwritten, Panic, Sort of fluffy I guess, Storm - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 02:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterlingBeryl/pseuds/SterlingBeryl
Summary: Alex gets caught alone at home by the storm. Eliza runs through the rain home from work.





	Ice cream

The rain hammered down on the windows; the windows with their rusty red hinges threatened to give any minute. A light; outside, the skies flashed; a streak of lightning struck. 

He couldn't take it anymore - take this anymore. He cringed from the lightning, waited for the inevitable boom. The skies spun, the cramped apartment spun under his knees, then — BOOM. It rattled the windows in their frames, and he rocked back and forth as it seemed to rattle his ribs too. 

Then — darkness. He heard his own shaky breathing in the reprieve that it offered. Outside, the unceasing torrent of rain continued, battering away at the feeble walls of his abode. He turned over, his heart beating frantically still, and he rested against the cupboard. He heard his breath slow. Dimly, he remembered that he was returning to his bedroom when the lightning caught him unawares. He stood up on his shaky feet, ready to return to the warmth and the light in the room. A single lamp was all he needed; electricity must be saved. And the day’s work was hardly — 

BOOM. Everything in the room had flashed bright, as though some bright moon had appeared instantaneously. It disappeared, but the image was burned into his eyes as he collapsed to the ground, in preparation for the inevitable thunder. Still the rain hacked away at the walls. 

In his terror, he vaguely remembered that people used to say, “Think of your favourite things!” He also dimly remembered scorning said people. But in the moment, anything seemed preferable than sitting and waiting for the next flash of panic. 

“Ice cream.” he muttered. “Balloons. Party hats. TV shows.” There was another thing; or maybe there were many other things; or none at all. His mind was erased as another light flashed; and he shut his eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ll be going home now.” Eliza put her cardigan on. 

The owner of the store frowned at her. “You better hurry on then. A storm’s coming this way.” 

Eliza paled. “Yes, I better.” Angelica would kill her if she let the cardigan get soaked. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dammit.” She peered up at the sky under the overhang where she had taken refuge; as though she could divine when the rain would end. 

The weather app had told her the rain would stop after three hours at the fastest. “Goddammit.” 

Try as she might though, she couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through her at the prospect of running through the rain. Something akin to childish glee gave the prospect a romantic type of freedom. 

She would run, with wild abandon, through the raindrops, and return home soaked through, but with a fast-beating heart and a wide smile. Alex would look at her with a smile and a funny remark, and they would watch TV together, a container of ice-cream between the two of them. 

She took off the cardigan and carefully folded it, putting it into her handbag. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was he drowning? It was hard to tell - the walls wavered with the light of the sea. The torrential rain could easily be the groan of the wide ocean. And the wind — finally he noticed the wind — was howling. With grief or with glee? 

And the moon — he could see it through the rain, a large, fuzzy, disk of light. He swam up towards the moon’s light where he saw it gleaming through the spinning currents. He gasped for air when he finally broke the surface. He thanked her light for saving him. 

A woman. Wasn’t there a woman? There should have been a lady, standing there, at the shore, with eyes over-brimming with tears as she welcomed him into her arms. He should have been folded into her warmth and held tight. His hair was plastered to his head, and her’s would drip with the dying rain; But they would hold tight and nothing would hurt them. 

Except, the shore was empty; the moonlight that shone full on everything showed him debris. A doorframe. A shattered chair. Sentimental ornaments from some poor bastard’s house. But no lady, no more soft hands and tight arms. 

A tear-stained face — his own. His breathing sped up, coming harsh and short. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eliza knew that something was wrong as soon as she stepped into the apartment. The hallways were dark, and the TV that would normally be on by the time she got home was dark and mute. Her excited smile faded into concern and confusion. 

“Alex? Are you there?” 

She took off her heavy shoes and slipped off her sodden socks. Her clothes dripped on the floorboards and she sighed. She should really have thought through her decision a little better next time. 

But what was this darkness? She flipped on a light. 

“Alex, I’m home!” A soft sound. With mounting curiosity, she rounded the sofa. 

She didn’t see him at first. Then she realized there was a child curled up in a corner. No — not a child. Alex.

“Alex!” She ran to him. “Are you alright?” At the last moment she restrained herself. She shouldn’t touch him while she was sopping wet. 

He raised his head to look at her. His face glistened with the sweat of fear, and she could see that in his eyes there glistened a dull terror. 

“Eliza?” He croaked. “She’s here — you’re here.” 

Eliza wrung her hands “Oh god, oh my god, why?” She touched his face and forehead. He was feverish. She didn’t miss the way he leaned into her hand. 

A distant boom sounded. He shut his eyes again. “Storm.” 

“Okay, okay, okay I’m going to dry up and then get you to bed, okay?” She ran to the bathroom and dried herself hastily with a towel. 

She returned to his side as soon as she stopped dripping. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” 

His eyes opened. He murmured meekly, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t you dare apologize Alexander Hamilton. Just, just stand up,” She took both of his hands in hers. He felt himself pulled upright. She brought his arm over her shoulder.

"Do you feel sick?" 

"No." 

"How bad is it?" 

"Feel scared." He let himself be led into the bed. "Sorry." 

"Don't be." She half whispered. She pulled the covers over him. "I'll get you something to drink." 

"No, I'll be fine. Could you close the curtains please?" 

"Sure." 

The storm raged half the night. Eliza closed the curtains, hung extra towels and clothes over them, to muffle the thunder as much as she could. She covered up every sliver of window, and turned on all the lamps such that the room was flooded with a warm, yellow glow. And if Alex tried to protest about the electricity bill, she turned glared him into submission. 

The extra blankets from her bed she arranged around Alex, amidst his protests. 

"Eliza, you're suffocating me. I don't need to be swaddled like this." He made no move to stop her as she tucked in the corners. 

"I heard that babies like it, because it simulates hugging." 

"Babies?!" 

"Shhhh, young frightened one." 

There was a slight pause. Eliza began to panic she had gone too far, the apology on the tip of her tongue, when he smirked at her. 

"Why not a real hug, Eliza dear?" 

Any other day, she would probably blush, swat away his arms. But the image of his face poking out from a mountain of blankets, attempting to sound like a womanizer, only made her laugh. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. 

There would be time later, when the storm passed, for them to go over the events of the night. Time enough, when the vulnerability was gone from his eyes, when the water in his cup stopped shaking. For now, all they had to do, was pass the night in peace, undisturbed by the turning of the outside world.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this today on a whim. I hope it's good ;) It is intentionally vague, you can take it as platonic hamliza or romantic hamliza.


End file.
